In this case, it’s OK to root for a team

Ivan Perisic of Croatia scores his team's second goal during the 2018 FIFA World Cup Russia group D match between Iceland and Croatia at Rostov Arena on June 26, 2018 in Rostov-on-Don, Russia.

Photo: Clive Brunskill / Getty Images

Rooting interest is a strange thing for sportswriters.

All members of the media, generally, strive to remain objective. You don’t root for the Giants if you cover the Giants, just like a City Hall reporter would never root for one mayoral candidate over another.

The thing about journalists is that we all have strong beliefs and convictions. But we do everything we can to put those feelings aside and tell the story straight. That’s the whole point of the profession. Any fool can sit down and tell you what they think. It takes a true pro to find and convey the truth, regardless of emotion.

And so it goes with sportswriters. All probably have favorite teams, but they’re not going to let that seep into the coverage. You call it like you see it. If you can’t do that, find another job.

It’s been that way for me, for years. I grew up in Cleveland, for instance. And I help The Chronicle cover the Warriors. The two teams meet in the Finals every year. And when I cover those games, I take my feelings out of it. To be honest, I like both teams, for different reasons. But I’m rooting for neither.

Now comes my confession: There is one squad I root for, without reservation — Croatia’s men’s national soccer team.

It’s not something I have much control over. It’s an emotional thing. A family matter.

My mother and father had their first date on the banks of Zagreb’s Sava River. Many of my cousins, aunts and uncles still live in Croatia. I was 6 months old when I first visited the country. I’m still going back 48 years later. My family also has Bosnian roots, of which I’m very proud, but we always considered ourselves to be from Croatia. That’s where my folks grew up.

When I was a kid, we spoke Croatian around the house and ate traditional foods on Sunday afternoons while spinning Old World folk songs on the record player. My father was an active member of Cleveland’s Croatian-American Academic Society, helping immigrants get ahead in school. I’ve tried to continue in that tradition, serving on the advisory board of the Bay Area’s Croatian Scholarship Fund, which raises money to help students get to college in the homeland.

My parents came to the U.S. seeking opportunity, and they found it. But it wasn’t easy. Both my father and my grandfather had been imprisoned by Tito’s communist dictatorship in Yugoslavia. My father literally fled on foot, climbing over the Slovenian Alps into Austria. He eventually made it to the U.S., welcomed like so many others.

My parents were so very proud to be Americans, embracing everything they could in their new homeland, from baseball to burgers to jazz to politics. They lived the American Dream, but never forgot their roots. They passed those values on to me and my sister. That’s how immigration works best. Embrace the new. Remember the past. Blend them together in the melting pot, and enjoy the resulting feast.

For me, that stew includes a heaping helping of Croatia’s “Vatreni,” a nickname for the national team that roughly equates to the word “Blazers.” They’re a distinctive bunch, often wearing the unique, checkered jerseys that represent Croatia’s national coat of arms.

And they’ve always been a talented team, born from Croatia’s painful struggle for independence in the 1990s. The Croats won their freedom, and the world gained a new powerhouse soccer side.

Croatia made its first major splash on the international stage in the ’98 World Cup when — behind Golden Boot winner Davor Suker — it finished a remarkable third in France.

The team has maintained an international prominence ever since, making four more World Cups since its debut and bringing into this year’s tournament a No. 20 world ranking. All along, the team’s following grew, fed by the popularity of international stars such as Darijo Srna, Luka Modric and Ivan Rakitic, all of whom have played for the biggest clubs in Europe, from Barcelona to Manchester and back.

Which brings us to this year’s Croatian side, one of only three teams to come through group play unscathed (Uruguay and Belgium are the others), winning three straight to earn Sunday’s quarterfinal matchup with Denmark.

The Croats are led by the brilliant Modric, who directs the game like a conductor from his midfield perch. Rakitic is by his side in the middle, helping to serve the formidable striker Mario Mandzukic up front. The back line has been rock steady, ahead of the talented Danijel Subasic in goal (who played insanely well in Tuesday’s 2-1 defeat of Iceland).

They’ve been fun to watch and have as good a chance as any team in this topsy-turvy Cup. Or it could end for them Sunday against Denmark. That’s what makes the World Cup tremendous.

A nation’s hopes and pride ride with the national side. Americans didn’t get to experience those emotions this year, a 2-1 loss to Trinidad and Tobago in October having ended the opportunity.

Instead, many of us can look to our ancestral roots and find a rooting interest. For me, that road leads to Croatia, to Zagreb, to the Dalmatian Coast. I’m proud to be an American. And I’m proud of my Croatian heritage. These two things are complementary, not exclusive.

I’m certainly not alone in my passion for a country in which I wasn’t born. There are millions of Croats scattered across the globe, many with one foot in two cultures.

One of Croatia’s top players — Rakitic — was in the same situation, growing up in Switzerland after his parents fled the Balkan Wars in the early 1990s. But he also grew up with daily reminders of his roots, in the language they spoke and the food they ate.

In a moving piece for The Players’ Tribune last week titled “The Best Shirt in the World,” the Barcelona midfielder wrote about his decision to play for Croatia rather than Switzerland.

He wrote about how he and his brothers would sleep in Croatian team jerseys as youngsters. How this team meant everything to a country struggling to be born.

“Even before Croatia had officially declared its independence, our national team had already played a match,” wrote Rakitic. “I think that tells me how much football means to us, to any country, really, and its people — no matter where they live.”

He’s right. There is a tremendously unifying element to the World Cup, bringing whole nations together under one banner or scarf.

It makes me proud to root for Croatia. It makes me sad that America missed out on this chance to come together.

Al Saracevic has worked for the San Francisco Chronicle since 2000, when he came over to the paper during the merger with the San Francisco Examiner. He started at the Hearst-owned Examiner in 1994. During his time at both papers, Al has held numerous jobs ranging from copy editor to wire editor to reporter to columnist to deputy section editor. He also served as Business Editor of The Chronicle before becoming sports editor in 2009.

Among the major stories Al has covered: the dot-com boom and bust of the 1990s; the California energy crisis of the early 2000s; the Web 2.0 revolution; the rebuilding of Iraq after the initial occupation of that country; the accounting, banking and real estate crises of the middle-2000s; two U.S. Open golf tournaments; the President’s Cup; the Fiesta Bowl; the Rose Bowl; two World Series; numerous NFL playoff games; and one Super Bowl. Currently, Al remains the sports editor of The Chronicle. He also pens a weekly column called From the Sports Desk. And in his spare time, he is the founding contributor to the paper’s online snow sports blog, Slope Dope.